


Battle Fatigue

by strangerthingswasntthatgood



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-30 00:14:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13938471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangerthingswasntthatgood/pseuds/strangerthingswasntthatgood
Summary: James Barnes is one sad f*cker who thinks the Avengers will kill him for being a coward.





	Battle Fatigue

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes you write something in the middle of the night and can't be bothered to reread it. This work is one of them. I'll probably never reread it or change it ever, so have fun with all possible mistakes. *shrugs*

“Bucky, get down!”

Natasha glanced over her shoulder. Steve was held back by two men in black suits and his friend, he stared back at the three men. Natasha could tell he didn’t see neither Steve nor the men in the suits. He had seen that look far too many times before. It wasn’t only Barnes, of course. It was most of them. Most of the Avengers, most of the soldiers that came back home, most of the young adults she had met after the New York incident. 

Steve struggled to get away. Natasha wondered if he should help him or James first, but decided to go for the later option. Steve could manage, but if anyone were to attack James… Natasha doubted he’d snap out of it. It could take hours.

She squatted down in front of the man. She didn’t think it was wise to touch him, but they had to get him away from the battlefield before something happened to him.

“Romanoff!”, it was Steve again, but Natasha decided not to have a look at him just yet. “Romanoff, get out of here!”

I’m trying, she wanted to tell him, but he didn’t have enough time for that, either. She grabbed James’ hands and squeezed them. His gaze didn’t even flicker.

“James”, she hissed. “C’mon…”

A loud bang made her lean forward. She was close enough to feel James’ shallow breathing against his face. Something hit her back and she let out a huff in pain. She wasn’t meant to be scared, the Red Room had always made sure of that, but the pounding of her heart and the trembling of her hands told her let her know that she should be scared.

A sharp pain cut through the right side of her pain. The sound came just a second later. A warm streak of blood rushed down the side of her face and before she could think, she slapped James’ as hard as she could. His head flew to his left and Natasha could tell he would fall over.

“James”, she groaned again. His eyes were slowly getting less blank. “James, we need to get out of here.”

He seemed to look right through her. His face was a grimace of pain and fear.

“I can’t see.” James whispered. His voice was barely loud enough for Natasha to hear over the roaring sounds of the fight. Her cheek felt as if it was on fire, but that was not what was important. She didn’t have to get away from there alive, but James Buchanan Barnes did. If he died here, she would never forgive herself. James was the only one Steve had and the two… Natasha knew they needed each other.

“Grab onto me. I’ll lead you to a safe place.” Natasha whispered, as she grabbed James’ hand again. She wrapped an arm around him as she pulled her up. He leaned against her.

“I’m… I’m not…” 

Natasha had a look at the man next to her. He looked worse than he had just a moment ago. His face was white against the darkness of the sky. His hands trembled nearly as bad as hers did. 

“Listen”, she pulled him with her, just to get him moving. “I know. Okay? We’ll talk later.”

When Steve later asked how they had managed to get away, Natasha could only shrug. She could remember how they had reached a quiet place and how she put James down for a second, just to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She could remember when she pulled him up again and how she threw up in a ditch, but she couldn’t remember the walk. She couldn’t remember where they had gone or how they had gotten away, only that they had gotten away. Bucky, on the other hand, remembered. The fear had made his body not only heavy, but also weak. His own body didn’t want to listen to him and even though he tried, he couldn’t see. He could feel the heat of Natasha’s body and he could hear her heavy breathing, but he couldn’t see her. The fear made the walk like torture.

Natasha sat with James in the plane. His face had regained some of the colour, but he stared at the wall much like she had looked at her before. She doubted he could see it. The rest of them would take another few hours. Everyone was relatively okay. Bruce was tired and fell asleep on the way home curled up with Tony, who flipped through a magazine. Clint sat right next to her and signed things, to leave the room quiet. Natasha replied the same way. Wanda sat right next to him with Vision, while Thor spoke to Tony and T’Challa, as quietly as a god can speak. Bucky and Steve, on the other hand, sat quiet. They sat with an inch or two apart and didn’t speak. They hadn’t said a word to each other since the plane left the ground. The low humming of the engine lulled Natasha to sleep.

 

“Will they shot me?”

Natasha held her eyes close. Something told her everyone else had fallen asleep and James and Steve finally had decided to talk about what had happened. Natasha knew Sam had had the talk with Steve, but doubted he had had enough time to have it with James yet.

“You know they won’t. It’s not like before.” Steve’s voice was louder than James’. It was more desperate than James’, too. James’ voice was empty. Natasha knew he had already given up.

“They shot…” Bucky began, but Steve cut him off.

“They don’t do that anymore.”

A silence fell. Natasha wondered what they thought about. She slowly opened her eyes. Bucky and Steve sat closer each other now. Steve held Bucky’s hands in his own and Bucky’s head rested against Steve’s left shoulder. They looked like two lovers. Of course, they were. Natasha had figured it out shortly after she heard about the Sharon-kiss. She wouldn’t say anything about it, but she no longer tried to set Steve up with someone. Steve pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Bucky’s head.

“It will be okay, Buck.”

Bucky pulled away. He glanced around and met Natasha’s eyes. He saw her now, she knew that much. Rage flashed before his eyes for just a moment, before he stood.

“When are we back?” he asked with a voice that was just what calm before the storm was. Natasha opened her mouth to reply, but Steve did before she could.

“Half an hour. You can calm down.”

James watched her for a second and she knew they’d have to talk about this, sooner or later. They remembered what they had done together, but they didn’t talk about it. Of course they didn’t, James refused to talk about any of it.

 

It was dark when Sam arrived. Steve and Bucky sat in the kitchen. Natasha had wanted to go to bed as soon as they came home, but pulled James aside to apologise. Only when she had promised she wouldn’t tell anyone did he let her go.

“It’s good to see you two.” Sam stood in the doorway with his arms crossed. He looked tired, but Steve knew Sam wouldn’t leave until James knew nothing would happen to him.

“You, too, Sam. Thanks for coming.” 

James stayed quiet. He stared at his hands. His sight had came back to him on the plane, slowly but surely.

“You alright, James?” Sam sat down right next to him. James nodded, even though it was a lie. He was too tired to have this conversation. He was sure Sam was here to arrest him.

“You don’t have to talk”, Sam began and somewhere in the distance, he heard a door close. When he had a look around the room later, he’d figure out that Steve had left. “But I want you to listen. I’ll take as long as you want and you can ask me anything, but you have to promise to listen.”

James nodded again. It was enough for Sam.

“What you experienced today is nothing bad”, Sam’s voice was soft and gentle. “It’s your bodies reaction to stress or trauma. You probably know it as battle fatigue or shell shock, but it’s not like that anymore. There’s few people who think like they did when you grew up.”

Sam was quiet for a moment. James no longer looked at his hands, but at Sam’s. James was sure Sam felt the tension in the room and that he would stop soon, but he didn’t.

“It’s very usual, especially when you don’t have enough time to rest and the conditions are bad. I know you don’t rest. Steve tells me you train instead of sleep. You have to rest. Steve is the only one who can tell you to stay home during missions, but I advice you not to go. You gotta ease into it, okay, buddy?”

James nodded again. He didn’t want to hear more of it. He opened his mouth, then pressed his lips together again. He couldn't find the right words.

James could hear the footsteps behind the door. He could tell it was Steve. Ever since the serum his footsteps had changed. They sounded a little less sure, a little heavier, but they still somehow sounded like Steve’s footsteps. The footsteps James had grown up to love.

“You… you won’t shoot me?” James asked, finally. Sam reached out for one of James’ hands, but stopped as if to ask for permission. James leaned into a hug rather than a handshake.

“No. You don’t have to go back if you don’t want to. No more work, no more missions, no more war.”

James laughed. It was the laugh of a man who had lost everything, but just had found said everything right behind him.

“No more…?”

Sam shook his head and for a second, James’ life felt complete again.


End file.
